Faceless Evil
by Shadowblade217
Summary: After defeating the Nogitsune, Scott, Stiles, and the rest of the Beacon Hills gang decide to go on a road trip to get away from Beacon Hills for a while. But a last-second change of plans leaves them stranded in the forests of Northern California, where a simple camping trip is transformed into a terrifying battle for survival.
1. Blind Fear

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Slender.**

_**Faceless Evil**_

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**Chapter 1: Blind Fear**

"I'm telling you, man, I don't think we should be out here."

Tom Strandberg, his eyes wide and nervous, turned his head repeatedly, scanning the trees as he hiked through the dark forest. The beam of his flashlight reflected off the trees as it shone through the night

Steve Conover, his best friend, waved his concerns off. "Oh, relax, man! It's going to be fine. I told you, these guys are cool. We won't have any problems, as long as you quit going on and on with your environmentalist crap."

"Well, I still don't like it." Tom glanced back over his shoulder, thinking he'd heard something, but nothing was there. "People tell lots of stories about this forest. Bad stories."

"Oh, not your stupid ghost stories _again!_" Steve muttered.

"They're not just stories, man!" Tom argued, ducking under a low-hanging tree branch. "Too many people have seen weird stuff out here for it to be a coincidence! You remember the story about those guys who got murdered out here last year, right?"

"Oh, not this again…" Steve groaned.

"Those guys were _torn apart_, Steve! Ripped limb from limb! And they never found out what did it!"

"That was a year ago, man! And do you really think, on the one night we're out here, we're going to run into whatever did that?"

Tom frowned. "I guess not... but I still don't like being out here."

"Oh, relax. Look, I told you, you're gonna want to see this. And we're almost there, anyway." Grinning, Steve led the way onward through the trees.

Tom looked around again. "I have a feeling that I'm really going to regret this," he muttered, before hurrying after his friend.

.

By the time the boys finally arrived at their destination, Tom was getting tired. They'd been walking for over an hour, but Steve had refused to turn back.

This had been Steve's idea; supposedly, some of his friends had a moonshine operation running out here, and he had convinced Tom to visit them as part of his weekly run to their camp. Despite his severe misgivings, Tom had agreed.

As they approached the camp, Tom noticed something… odd, briefly illuminated in the beam of his flashlight.

"Hey, look at this," he called, beckoning Steve to come back as he stopped and pointed his flashlight at the object that had captured his interest; a large tree. Attached to the trunk, perhaps stapled to it, was a white sheet of paper, with writing on it in large block letters.

DON'T LOOK OR IT TAKES YOU.

"What?" Steve asked, turning and walking back to where Tom was standing. He leaned in, shining his flashlight on the tree trunk and examining the sheet of paper. "'Don't look or it takes you,'" he read. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"How should I know?" Tom asked nervously. Something else caught his eye; on the corner of the page were the numbers "1/8", in a circle.

_One of eight? Does that mean there are seven more of these things around here?_

"Forget it," Steve said, shrugging. "We need to go." He turned around, heading onward towards the camp.

Perhaps on an impulse, Tom removed the page from the tree, folding it up and placing it in his pocket.

Then Steve yelled.

When he heard his friend's voice, Tom spun around, dashing down the dried-out creek bed they'd been following, until he burst through a line of bushes and almost ran into his friend. Steve was standing at the edge of a clearing, almost shaking.

"What's wrong?" Tom asked, panting.

Steve's voice cracked as he replied, "Look." He raised his free hand, pointing.

Tom turned to look, and then his stomach gave a violent lurch. He had to forcefully restrain himself from throwing up.

The cause of this reaction was the sight in the clearing in front of him. It was clearly Steve's friends, the moonshine operators they'd been expecting to meet with.

Or, rather, what was left of them.

The first thing Tom noticed was the blood. It was _everywhere_; splattered over the ground, the bushes, the trunks of the trees up to above head height, and the remains of the tents that had made up the moonshiners' camp. It was as if someone had set up a bomb, placed a dozen gallons of scarlet paint on top of it, and detonated them.

The tents themselves had been shredded, torn to pieces, as if someone had put them through a shredder. Strips of the destroyed tents and scattered possessions lay among the wreckage.

But the most horrifying sight of all was the moonshiners themselves. They had suffered a similar fate to the tents; their bodies had been torn apart, limbs and heads ripped off and internal organs either pulled out and scattered around or simply gone.

Steve turned away, choking; Tom simply stared in horror.

_What the hell could have done this?_

And then he heard it; the crunch of leaves underfoot, followed by the crack of a fallen branch.

But he wasn't moving. Neither was Steve.

And the sound had come from a completely different direction.

Tom felt as if he had ice cubes in his stomach. He whirled to Steve, who also looked terrified; clearly, he had heard the noises too.

"Go!" Tom yelled. Steve nodded numbly, and they took off, running back the way they had come.

As they ran, he heard a strange buzzing sound, almost like static, in his ears. The beams of their flashlights suddenly flickered.

_Oh, god,_ Tom thought.

Another _crack_ of a branch snapping underfoot, coming from behind them.

Steve started to turn his head and look back, but Tom grabbed him by the hand, pulling him onward. He remembered the writing on the page; _Don't look or it takes you._

"Don't look!" he called. "Just run!"

And then Steve tripped, and fell. He cried out as he hit the ground, scraping his knee. Tom skidded to a halt, and – before he could stop himself – he turned around.

His heart almost stopped.

Steve was scrambling to his feet. And, standing directly behind him, was an immensely tall, humanoid figure. It was at least eight feet tall, and extremely thin, with arms so long that they extended down past its knees. Its fingers were very long and bony, almost like claws. It wore a black business suit, which covered everything except its hands and head. But its head was by far the most terrifying part of its appearance. It was completely bald, its skin as smooth and white as an eggshell. But that wasn't the scary part.

It had no face. No ears, no eyes, no nose, just an indentation in its face where a mouth might otherwise have been.

"_Run!_" Tom yelled at the top of his lungs. "_Steve, it's behind you, run!_"

And Steve made a fatal mistake. Instead of running immediately, he turned around.

Upon seeing the creature, he screamed, a bloodcurdling shriek of pure terror.

As if that scream was a signal, the creature moved, like a spring suddenly released. Five long, dark tentacles, as black as a shadow, suddenly shot out of its back as if they were on springs. One of the tentacles struck forward, like a scorpion's tail, and punched, point-first, straight through Steve's chest and out his back.

"_No!_" Tom screamed, but it was already too late.

Steve gurgled, a shocked sound, as the tentacle flexed, lifting him off of his feet until his head was level with the creature's faceless visage. Another tentacle whipped across in a simple lateral blow, lashing across his neck, and his throat seemed to explode in a spray of blood. His head fell from his shoulders, instantly severed from his body, and thudded to the ground.

As the tentacle that Steve's headless body was still impaled on coiled, lifting him higher into the air, the creature's other four tentacles, including the one that had taken his head off, lashed out again, stabbing into his body in four different places.

The sound of a sickening crunching and snapping as the tentacles tore Steve's body apart was what snapped Tom out of the horrified daze he'd been in. He turned, frantically racing off into the woods, back down the creek bed towards the highway.

In the back of his mind, the rational part, Tom knew he didn't have a chance of getting away. It had taken the two of them over an hour to get out here; he was miles from the highway, where they'd left his car. This thing would catch him long before he could get there.

He was going to die.

He ran anyway.

His only chance was that the creature – _whatever the hell it was_ – would be occupied with Steve's corpse for long enough that he could get a good enough head start, and it wouldn't be able to catch up before he could get to his car and get out of there.

And he also knew what Steve hadn't; the page had to have been some kind of warning. _Don't look or it takes you_. Fairly simple to him, but not to a pothead like Steve. If he didn't look at the thing, it wouldn't kill him.

The problem was that he'd already seen it; did that fill the requirement of the warning? Or did he actually have to be looking at it for it to harm him?

Either way, Tom wasn't sticking around to find out.

As he ran back along the dried-up creek, Tom's gaze fell on something attached to a fallen tree that crossed the creek bed, reflecting the flashlight beam. He stopped, blinking in confusion, and shone the light directly on the object, illuminating it more clearly.

Another piece of paper, this one with the symbol "2/8" in its upper corner. This one had more words on it, in the same block lettering; the words "LEAVE ME ALONE", accompanied by a drawing of a small tree.

Snatching the page as the static in his ears grew even louder, Tom clambered up over the fallen tree, swinging his legs up and over it as he dropped down on the far side. There was no sign of the creature down the way he'd just come. He turned to continue running… and froze, rooted to the spot in terror.

It was right there, _right there_, standing just a few feet from him, hands at its sides. It had no eyes, but he knew it was looking at him.

The static in his ears was now blaring, a deafening chorus of white noise, signaling his impending death.

The tentacles came out, and the creature shrieked at him.

Tom Strandberg opened his mouth to scream...

Just as the beam of his flashlight flickered again, and went out.

There was an instant of blinding pain, and then everything went black.

.

**AN: Hello, everyone, and welcome to my new story, **_**Faceless Evil**_**! As you may have guessed, this story will feature everyone's favorite Teen Wolves taking on one of the most terrifying monsters of all time, Slenderman! We'll have to see how this story goes, but I hope I did Slenderman justice in this opening chapter. This chapter is basically the same kind of cold open that they've perfected on **_**Teen Wolf**_**, so hopefully I did a good job of writing it!**

**I'll be introducing the **_**Teen Wolf**_** gang next chapter and setting up the plotline for this story, so stay tuned!**

**I tremendously appreciate comments and feedback on my work, so if anyone has any questions or comments about this chapter or the story as a whole, please review! (No hate, please; that's not fun for you, me, or anyone else).**

**See you all next time!**


	2. Road Trip

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Slender.**

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"_I remember one day my friend and I were coming back from Los Angeles. We passed the San Luis Obispo reservoir, and as we drove on the road I saw something at a distance down at the end of the mountain. It was a really big human figure, but it wasn't. It had a black cape kind of like the grim reaper and it was leaning over holding on to a staff at a "puddle of water" or so that is what it seemed at a distance. It was in daytime too, so I could identify it wasn't a person. Even in mid light he was very black and reminded me of a raven. I told my friend that was driving to look over at the mountains, and surprisingly she was able to see a glimpse of it. I asked her what she saw without giving her my details, and she said exactly what I saw. She only looked at it for about 5 seconds, but she was able to see it. She almost lost control of the car too when she looked away at it, and I begged her to go back and see it, but she was very tired of driving already. These Dark Watchers are real!"_

_Elizabeth Benitez  
San Mateo, California  
December 20, 2013_

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**Chapter 2: Road Trip**

Scott McCall walked down the hallway of Beacon Hills High School, listening to the meaningless chatter of the other students all around him. The endless chorus of voices was actually a good thing sometimes; when you zoned out a bit, it became like white noise. After everything that had been going on during the last few months, Scott had been trying to relax in any way he could.

God knew he could use some rest, after the semester he and his friends had been through.

First, there had been the Alpha pack, and the Darach (aka Jennifer Blake), who had gone on a sacrificial killing spree through Beacon Hills, resulting in the deaths of several of Scott's friends and endangering the rest. They'd finally made it through that threat, only to face a new enemy; the Nogitsune.

Scott still had nightmares about the dark spirit's rampage, resulting in the deaths of dozens of people, including Aiden. But worse than all the pain of those deaths, worse than anything Scott could ever have imagined, was Allison.

She had died in his arms. He could still see it; those last moments. Her tearful smile, before her head fell back and all movement ceased.

No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get the images out of his mind. It had been over a months, and he hadn't managed to really get over it. He had nightmares about what had happened on a regular basis, and he knew that his friends were in the same situation.

Abruptly, he was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of a voice calling his name.

"Scott? Scott!"

Scott turned, to see Stiles hurrying down the hallway towards him with a grin on his face.

"What's up?" Scott asked, pulling a textbook out of his locker.

Stiles grinned. "Okay, so Thanksgiving break's starting tomorrow, right? Well, I say this year we do something different. After all of the crap we've been through, we've earned it."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"Oh, you're gonna love this." Smirking, Stiles pulled a flyer out of his pocket, unfolded it and held it up. "I found this ad for a music festival next week in Portland. And the list of performers includes two of our favorite bands: The Offspring and The Black Lips." With a triumphant grin, he threw his arms out. "Well? How's that sound?"

Scott considered for a moment. "I mean, it sounds cool, yeah, but… dude, we can't miss Thanksgiving with our families."

"Did I say we were going to miss Thanksgiving?" Stiles countered. "The music festival's on Monday and Tuesday. So what I figure is, we head out after school on Friday and drive up to Oregon, do some camping on the way. We're in Portland by Monday, we hit the festival and stay for two nights in the city, and we drive home Wednesday and spend Thanksgiving right back here in Beacon Hills." He smiled again. "And, before you ask, I already talked to my dad; he's totally okay with it, as long as we keep in touch and get back by Wednesday. So what do you say?"

After a moment, Scott nodded, impressed despite himself. "Sounds cool. All right, what the hell. I'm in."

"Yes!" Stiles punched a fist in the air exuberantly. "Okay, let's pack tonight, and we can head out tomorrow afternoon. No girls, no werewolf problems, just you and me."

Scott's lips curved in a faint smile. "Okay, then. Let's do it."

.

The next afternoon was cool and crisp, with a faint breeze. Scott had barely finished packing the last of his clothes for the road trip into a suitcase when he heard the familiar sound of Stiles blaring the horn on his Jeep out front.

Picking up his bags, Scott hurried down the stairs. His mom, of course, was waiting for him in the living room. She smiled and hugged him. "Be safe, okay? And look after Stiles; make sure he doesn't get himself into trouble."

Scott grinned. "I will, Mom. And I'll make sure we're home in time for Thanksgiving."

Stiles was waiting, of course, leaning against his Jeep, when Scott walked out the front door carrying his bags. He waved a hand. "Come on, come on! Let's go!"

"All right, all right," Scott muttered, heaving his bags into the car. "Relax; we've got plenty of time."

"Yeah, well, we're on a timetable here, Scotty," Stiles replied, hopping into the driver's seat. "So let's get a move on."

Sighing, Scott climbed into the passenger's seat, and the Jeep pulled out onto the road.

.

Scott and Stiles spent the rest of the day driving, heading north towards Portland. Their first stop was in an area near Sacramento, where they set up a tent at a local campground and settled in for the night.

"So, why did you really want to go on this trip?" Scott asked, as they sat beside a campfire, each holding a bottle of bourbon that Stiles had pilfered from his father's liquor cabinet before leaving.

Stiles sighed heavily, staring into the crackling flames. "I just… I needed this. I needed to get out of town for a while, see new places, meet new people…" He trailed off. "I need to forget, Scott. I can't stop seeing it. I still have nightmares about all of it. All those people who got hurt, who _died_, because of that thing wearing my face. Allison, Aiden… so many other people… I can't get it out of my head."

"Hey." Scott placed a hand on his friend's shoulder comfortingly. "I get it. I know how it feels." He didn't smile, but his facial expression was earnest and kind. "It's gonna be okay, all right? You're gonna get through this."

After a long moment, Stiles nodded. "I hope so."

They sat beside the fire until it burned to ashes, and then crawled into their tent to sleep.

.

Scott woke up at dawn. Despite the alcohol he'd consumed the previous night, he felt much better now; his werewolf metabolism had erased any traces of a hangover.

Stiles, unfortunately, wasn't that lucky; he'd drank at least as much as Scott, and he hadn't been able to sleep it off. He spent most of the day curled up in the passenger's seat with his jacket draped over his head and complaining that his skull felt like it was going to explode, leaving Scott to drive. His hangover didn't fade until midway through the afternoon, by which time they had traveled a considerable distance north.

They stopped in a town called Redding for a late lunch, once Stiles's hangover had finally ebbed to some degree. Scott parked at a diner, and they both exited the car and found an unoccupied booth inside.

A waitress showed up after a couple of minutes; she was blonde, wearing a red T-shirt and dark jeans, and smiled in a friendly way. "What can I get you guys?"

"Chicken fingers, fries, and a big Coca-Cola," Stiles replied.

The waitress nodded, writing down his order, and then turned to Scott. "And what would you like?"

"Bacon cheeseburger, no onions, rare, with fries," Scott said promptly. "And a Coke for me too, please."

She smiled again, taking his order down, and then collected the menus and headed back to the kitchen.

By the time their food arrived, Stiles had finally stopped complaining about Scott's drinking a significant amount of the alcohol he'd brought along, and was, instead, speculating on where they could find a good place to camp for the night.

"Here you go," the waitress said with a smile as she set down their orders on the table.

"Thanks," Scott replied, a faint grin of his own flickering across his face as he took a sip of his drink.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know any good campgrounds around here, would you?" Stiles inquired.

The waitress considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I do, actually; Mount Shasta's only about an hour's drive north of here. There's lots of good campgrounds and hiking trails around there."

"Cool, thanks!"

As soon as they finished dinner, Scott and Stiles climbed back into the Jeep and headed off up I-5 towards Mount Shasta. After about an hour, they passed through the town and headed out along a road leading into the surrounding mountains, towards one of the campgrounds the waitress had mentioned.

.

"So, what's the deal with you and Kira, anyway?" Stiles asked as he continued driving down the road, through dense pine forest. The sky overhead was filled with dark gray clouds.

Scott looked over at him in surprise. "What? I… nothing. There is no deal; we're not…"

Stiles snorted. "Oh, please. Scott, there's obviously something going on between you two; so are you dating, or what?"

After a moment, Scott frowned. "I…" He sighed. "I don't know. After Allison, and everything that happened… I can't date anyone else yet. Not this soon. I mean, Kira's great, but…"

"No, I get it." Stiles nodded understandingly. "It makes sense. But, dude… don't you think Allison would want you to get on with life? She'd want you to be happy, right?"

Scott's eyes closed for a few minutes as he thought that over, leaning his head against the cold window. As much as he hated to admit it, Stiles was right; Allison wouldn't want his grief over her death to keep him from being happy.

As he thought it over, Scott relaxed, slumping against the cool glass, and began to drift off to sleep.

"What the hell?"

At Stiles's words, Scott opened his eyes with a start. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Look." Stiles pointed out through the windshield. Scott turned his head, just in time to see a car – a dark red Ford Taurus – parked at the side of the road.

"Why would someone be parked all the way out here?" he wondered. "We should see if they need help."

"Yeah," Stiles muttered, "that's what I was thinking." He stopped alongside the car, only to see that there was no one in the driver's seat. In fact, there was no one in the car at all.

"There aren't any people," Scott murmured, rolling down the window.

"Yeah, I see that," Stiles retorted.

"Pull over."

With a sigh, Stiles pulled over and parked in front of the other car. "I have a feeling we're gonna regret this." He opened the driver's-side door and stepped out; Scott followed.

As they walked up to the stopped car, Scott inhaled deeply, trying to catch a scent. Initially, he couldn't smell anything human; just the normal scents of the forest, along with the tang of rain from the clouds overhead.

"Why would somebody just leave their car here?" Stiles wondered, looking around.

Scott glanced around, feeling on edge for some reason. The thick pine trees on either side of the road were unnerving; it seemed as if anything could be concealed within them.

Walking around the car, Scott inhaled deeply. This time, he finally caught a scent; faint, maybe two or three days old, but present.

"They got out," he murmured.

Stiles turned to face him. "_They?_"

Scott nodded. "Yeah. I can smell two different scents." He glanced around, scenting the air. "They parked here, got out…" He turned to face the trees and raised his arm, pointing to a clearly visible hiking trail, running through the trees. "And they went that way."

"How long ago were they here?" Stiles asked. "Can you tell?"

"No, not exactly," Scott replied, shaking his head. "But the scent's pretty faint; no one's been here for at least two or three days, maybe longer."

"Who leaves their car on the side of the road for two or three _days?_"

"I don't know." Scott looked around again. "But I… I feel something. Something's not right about this place."

"Not right?" Stiles scowled. "Not right as in 'standard creepy forest', or not right as in 'oh my god we need to leave right now or some supernatural monster is going to rip our heads off'?"

Scott considered that for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh, that's great. Just great." Stiles groaned. "And we're gonna have to go in there and find them, aren't we?"

"No. You should stay here. It could be dangerous."

"Yeah, exactly," Stiles countered. "Which is why I'll be safer with a werewolf to protect me than I would be sitting back here on my ass waiting for you to get back. Plus, as much as I hate the idea of going in there, you're not going by yourself."

Scott looked at him for a moment, and then shook his head. "Fine. Let's go. But if anything happens, you run. Okay?"

"No problem," Stiles said with a chuckle. "Let's just do this already, so we can get out of this damn forest."

Stiles returned to the Jeep, pulling out two flashlights and extra batteries just in case those ran out. He locked the car doors and returned to Scott, handing him one of the flashlights. "It'll be dark in a couple of hours; if we haven't found them by then, we might need these."

Nodding in thanks, Scott took the flashlight, headed towards the trees and started along the trail, keeping his senses on full alert. Stiles followed, glancing around nervously.

.

Deep in the forest, something moved. Five black tentacles, which had been embedded point-first in the forest floor, retracted.

A head, bald, ghostly pale, and devoid of any facial features, lifted, turning its eyeless gaze slowly in the direction of the distant highway.

_Someone new is here._

_More prey have come._

_Time to hunt._

The tall, black-suited figure's outline flickered, and it vanished into thin air.

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**AN: And here we are again. Sorry it's taken me so long to update; I hope this chapter made up for it! I should have the next chapter up much sooner.**

**If anyone's wondering, the car parked at the side of the road belongs to Tom and Steve, the two guys from the last chapter. So, it's their scent that Scott and Stiles are following. Just wanted to clarify, to make sure I didn't confuse anyone.**

**And, regarding the quote at the beginning of the chapter; that was an actual quote that I found on a website, from a woman who was recounting her encounter with an allegedly supernatural being, officially known as the Dark Watchers of the Santa Lucias. They're not connected to the classic Slenderman story, but I decided to incorporate them into the Slenderman mythology. So, if you're interested in learning more about that myth, I encourage you to look them up!**

**Shoutouts to GuardianOfMusic27855, vkdragonfire, and AnnaRamila for reviewing; you guys are awesome!**

**As always, I tremendously appreciate comments and feedback on my work, so if anyone has a question or comment regarding this chapter or the story as a whole, please review! (No hate, please).**

**See you all next time!**

**Review Q&amp;A:**

**Q: That was AMAZING! PLEASE continue this!**

**A: Thanks! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Q: This story has a LOT of potential! I hope you continue it! :D**

**A: Thank you, I appreciate the compliment! Yeah, I'm going to have a lot of fun writing this story.**

**Q: Wow! The opening chapter made me very excited about this story, so I really hope the next chapter comes soon.**

**A: Well, thanks! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter!**


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